Jimmy could tell the silent threat was bothering Blalock. He watched the man fumble with his notes and then his phone, scattering the first and nearly dropping the latter as he tried to do anything to avoid Cold’s gaze.
The judge’s door opened and in walked a heavily painted woman who smiled like a shark. The bailiff puffed out his chest and called out in a booming voice, “All rise for the Honorable Judge Del Rio!”
Jimmy stood up too quickly and his body clenched down on the plug, causing him to squeak quietly. He swore he heard Cold chuckle, and he wanted to hit him.
“Hello, all.” Del Rio sat down at the bench and waved her hand. “Good morning. Please, be seated. Now, Miss Beccali, if you’d be kind enough to get us started.”
“Yes, your honor,” Christine said politely. “The defense is asking to remove Francis Von Valdemar III’s prior testimony from the record. It was taken under severe duress, and Mr. Valdemar is ready to recant his previous statement.”
“Your honor,” Blalock argued, “this motion would be harmful to the prosecution’s case, and the defense’s implication that Mr. Valdemar’s statement was taken under duress is simply untrue. The original transcript clearly shows—”
“It is nothing more than a redacted fabrication that does not accurately tell the story of the abuse Mr. Valdemar sustained,” Christine cut in viciously, handing a copy to the bailiff for Del Rio to read. “Your honor, you can clearly see how concerning the amount of redactions are.”
“That transcript was as accurately recorded as every other single interrogation conducted by SSPD officers—”
“If that’s true, then I fear for anyone hoping for justice within this city,” Christine scoffed disgustedly.
“It’s unfortunate we don’t have the original recording to compare.” Blalock smiled confidently. “Always disappointing how things like that are lost.”
“Good thing I have a copy!” Christine winked, smiling sweetly as Blalock’s jaw went slack. She held up a familiar flash drive and stated firmly, “Your honor, for your consideration, I am also submitting Roderick Legrand’s personal copy of the interrogation recording.”
“How the hell?” Champignon snarled.
“Watch your language in my courtroom, Mr. Champignon,” Del Rio warned, accepting the flash drive from the bailiff and plugging it into her laptop. “Let’s have a listen.”
“This is extremely unorthodox, your honor,” Blalock argued stubbornly. “We have no way to know that this hasn’t been doctored or tampered with—”
“Chain of custody from SSPD where the tape was released to one Geraldine Peters for digital preservation,” Christine said smoothly, holding up a form to pass along to the bailiff. “She’s retired now, dementia, such a terrible disease. She never turned the digital copy back in, and it came into Mr. Legrand’s possession.”
“I bet it did,” Champignon growled softly.
“Still quite a mystery what happened to the original tape, your honor,” Christine noted. “Good thing Mrs. Eastwick made this copy or we’d have nothing.”
“What a shame that would have been,” Blalock grumbled.
“I’ll accept it,” Del Rio said immediately after reading over Christine’s form, already tapping away to open up the audio file. “I’m very curious to see how this transcript holds up to the purported honest scripting skills of SSPD’s finest.”
Blalock sank down in his chair, and Champignon grinded his teeth furiously.
The recording began to play, and the first few seconds were filled with a child’s sobbing. Thirdsies made an awful face, turning to bury his face into his grandfather’s shoulder.
They all listened to the grueling interrogation, and it was just as awful as when Jimmy heard it that morning. He glanced around the courtroom, trying to gauge everyone’s reactions as he resisted the urge to openly squirm in his seat.
Christine was calm but confident. Certainly, she’d already heard it before. Champignon was running hotter with every passing second, and Blalock looked helplessly lost when he heard the first officer discuss sending Valdemar away without his medication.
Valdemar grinned at that part, patting Thirdsies’ back and ruffling his hair affectionately.
Thirdsies appeared as nauseous as Blalock, and he tried to slink back deeper down into his chair as the tape played on.
Del Rio was listening intently, her sharp eyes cutting back and forth between her computer screen and the transcript copy. She did not look pleased.
Cold had steepled his fingers together, elbows on the table, as he leaned forward to stare down Champignon. He was smiling, nasty and proud, obviously pleased with this recent turn of events.
There was no way that Thirdsies’ testimony was going to stay in evidence now.
As the last few seconds of Thirdsies’ blubbering came to an end, Del Rio calmly closed her laptop. “Well, Mr. Blalock, I would say that the SSPD needs to brush up on their dictation skills, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, your honor,” Blalock said glumly.
